


Rust From Iron

by QuickYoke



Series: Prohibition AU [3]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: BDSM, F/F, Glove Kink, Porn With Plot, Threesome, these three are a hot mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 13:49:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8448439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickYoke/pseuds/QuickYoke
Summary: 1922 - Peridot has been on this job for months now and she still feels like she doesn't know anything.set after the events of "Like Something Rare"





	

_“Too much longing:_

_it separates us_

_like scent from bread,_

_rust from iron.”_

_-Jane Hirschfield, ‘Come Thief’_

 

* * *

* * *

 

High above and far beyond the warehouse stretched like a cathedral. Dim and dusty. Pillars of inflexible steel set in concrete, and the arch of the ceiling a series of barrel-shaped domes capping the structure as though it were the very cornerstone of the earth. Craning her neck, Peridot’s eyes followed a line from the horizon of tall metal doors to the welded triangle vaults perched with a family of grey and curious doves. The taste of rust welled up in her throat like a wound, and every surface bore a fine mantle of corrosion until even a wayward breeze could send a groan shivering through old decaying rivets.

It reminded Peridot of the factories of her youth, and her leg -- the one that was no longer there -- itched something fierce.

“Exactly how big an operation are you planning here?” Peridot adjusted her spectacles, squinting through the thick lenses at a particularly blighted section of flooring. Beneath her feet deep scars marred the concrete, though most of it seemed salvageable.

“Big enough.” Jasper grunted in reply.

On Peridot’s other side Lapis stepped over a hunk of industrial debris, carefully lifting her dress so as not to snag the hems on a protruding slab of ragged iron. “Where did you even find this dump?”

“Old munitions warehouse.” Jasper answered, gruff and matter-of-fact. “HQ picked it up for a song through their various government contacts.”

“How fantastic,” Peridot drawled. “It’s comforting to know that the unsavoury goings-on of the American government are only playing into your inept hands.”

As they stood just beyond the main entrance -- twin doors on rollers embedded to rails that peeled apart like rind from fruit -- Jasper pulled a cigar from her shirt pocket. Chewing one end off, she spat a wad of tobacco at Peridot’s feet in reply. Peridot’s brow furrowed into a scowl, and she turned away with a huff to continue their inspection of the site. For all that Lapis seemed to be ignoring their barbed back-and-forth, Peridot couldn’t help but feel relieved at her presence. Normally Peridot would have been accompanied by Jasper alone -- “an escort” Jasper liked to call herself, though the way she said it implied she had earned every scar and broken bone like a badge of honour.

As far as Peridot could tell, these little missions hardly called for any sort of physical defense. In the entire four months that she had been working this job Peridot had never once encountered a situation in which she felt threatened. A few vicious guard dogs back in Amherst didn’t count. Despite that, Jasper insisted on accompanying her. Peridot would have rather worked alone to be perfectly honest. She found Jasper’s company exhausting, and she didn’t even want to know what Jasper thought of her in return.

Fortuitously this particular job had lined up with one of Lapis’ runs down in Charleston. Having Jasper’s attention divided up between another person meant that Peridot only felt somewhat more irritated than usual. A bonus, by any reckoning.

“We’ll need to have the machinery shipped down from New York.” Peridot pointed at the far section of reasonably untouched concrete, drawing a square in the air with one finger. “I’ll only need maybe a quarter of the space -- at most. The rest can be designated to bottling, packaging, and shipment. The fermentation tanks can go there. I’ve redesigned the centrifugal pump so that it -”

“Ugh,” Jasper interjected, pinching the crooked bridge of her nose with her free hand. “I hate it when she actually opens her mouth. How do you stand it?”

To the side Lapis gave a desultory shrug. “You’d be surprised. Her mouth is one of my favourite features.”

At that Peridot flushed to the roots of her hair. Lapis shot her a small teasing grin, and Peridot was mollified only by that and the way Jasper’s face darkened at the suggestion.

Sticking the cigar back between her teeth, Jasper growled around it. “At least tell me one of you has some matches.”

“Maybe you can light it with your poor temper.” Lapis’ voice held a sudden edge that resembled a slab of serrated metal near her silver-buckled heels. Jasper’s upper lip curled into a snarl.

Perhaps Peridot had been wrong. Perhaps she did in fact fear an outbreak of violence on the job.

Sighing in resignation, Peridot dug out a small box of matches from the pocket of her slacks and gestured for Jasper to lean down. Jasper had to bend over nearly double to hold the cigar over the flame produced in Peridot’s hands.

“Well, look at that.” Jasper mumbled around the cigar, as thick as one of her fingers. “You’re useful for something besides talk after all.”

Peridot glared, shaking the match out before tossing it aside. “You’re welcome.”

“Can’t say the same for you, Deb.” Jasper blew a mouthful of acrid smoke at Lapis, who crinkled her nose but did not take a step back. “I’m going to walk the perimeter and make sure those contractors put up the fence proper.”

She turned and strode away, roughly kicking aside a bit of debris in her path and trailing a cloud of smoke like a bad omen. As Jasper left, Peridot eyed Lapis, who watched her go with narrowed eyes, toying with the pearl clasp of her wrist-length gloves.

“ _Deb?”_ Peridot repeated, puzzled. Flecks of dust accumulated on her glasses, and she squinted as she removed them to clean the lenses with the end of her rumpled shirt.

For a moment Lapis’ mouth thinned to a narrow line, and Peridot was sure her question would be brushed aside, but then she answered. “ _Debutante._ Jasper thinks that growing up with a roof over your head means silver spoons in your mouth.”

“Ah.”

As much as Peridot wanted to press for information she bit her tongue instead and pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. For all that she and Lapis had been -- well... _whatever_ they were for the last few months, Peridot knew hardly anything about her past that couldn’t be summed up in monosyllables.

“There weren’t any. Silver spoons, I mean.” Lapis continued picking her way across the warehouse floor. She paused then admitted over her shoulder, “Silver chopsticks, maybe.”

“Old money?” Peridot hazarded a guess. She stumbled on a loose bit of pitted brass shells, nearly losing her footing on her prosthetic until she steadied herself on a nearby column.

Lapis snorted, slowing down so that Peridot could catch up. “Hardly. Though my father’s side of the family have been here far longer than my mother’s. Not that anyone would believe that just by looking at him. He was a straight-laced guy. Descended from good stock back in Canton, or so I hear. He would’ve keeled right over if he knew about -” She looked away and her words lowered to a self-deprecating mutter. “- _everything._ ”

The two of them paused before a door leading to an office set inside the warehouse. Lapis tugged one hand free of its lacy glove, then twisted the dull handle. “Locked.” Without hesitation she reached around to the small pearl-sewn bag swinging at her hip and withdrew two hair pins.

“Is that really necessary?” Peridot asked, eyeing Lapis askance as she bent one of the pins with her teeth.

“We own it, don’t we?” Lapis shrugged and knelt down on the floor. The two pins were held in her mouth as she pulled the other glove from her hand and tucked them both away to better work. “Unless you want to ask Jasper for the key?”

Shoving her hands into her pockets, Peridot mumbled, “I’ll pass.”

While Lapis worked, her face screwed up in concentration, Peridot wandered over to one of the dusty windows and peered inside. She couldn’t see much through the dilapidated blinds. Some old stacks of moulding files here. A creaky cabinet there. All surrendered to the damp summer humidity. “What’s Jasper’s story anyway? She’s very _dedicated._ ”

“You’re going to have to ask her. I don’t kiss and tell.” Lapis answered, her tone vague and distracted. “Let’s just say she doesn’t like the competition much.”

Glancing over, Peridot’s eyebrows rose. “That bad, huh?”

A pregnant pause, and then Lapis said. “They’re not all bad. Steven is -” But she trailed off and shook her head, setting aside the look on her face, an expression soft and wistful -- something Peridot could never remember seeing there before. “In any case, Jasper can be irrational about them. Don’t believe everything she says. That goes for a lot of things.”

With a small click, Lapis twisted her hands just right and the lock creaked open. “You are frighteningly good at that,” Peridot pointed out, ambling over as Lapis rose to her feet and dusted off her knees.

“I bet you were always a stickler for rules,” Lapis ushered her inside with a coy look. “You strike me as the type.”

“I mean - yes.” Peridot grumbled, slouching into the office and glancing about the shadowy place with disinterest. “Until very recently.”

The door slid shut and Lapis twisted the handle behind her back so that the lock fell into place once more. Her eyes glimmered, liquid-dark, through the slats of light that glanced across motes of golden dust hanging in the air. The light painted her skin in narrow stripes as she crossed the space between them, and the leonine tilt of her mouth was enough to make Peridot take a few steps back before realising it.

“What are you doing?” Peridot felt her lower back nudge against a table, and she froze in place.

“This is a site inspection, isn’t it?” Lapis smiled, and a slant of light made her jaw and teeth magnesium-bright, leaving the rest of her face in darkness. Now she stood directly before Peridot, and she reached around under the pretense of studying the desk, leaving dark, shiny swipes of dust in the wake of her fingers trailing across the surface. As she did so, she pinned Peridot in place with her hips, tilting her head. “I’m just making sure we’re being thorough. I thought as such a straight-edge you’d appreciate that.”

Already Peridot’s skin was humming. Through the layers of clothing that separated them, Lapis was a length of steady heat, but Peridot shivered as though a chill had settled against her instead. “What about Jasper?”

At that Lapis rolled her eyes and let out a disgusted noise in the back of her throat. “I’ve had enough of Jasper today to last me a lifetime.” Her gaze sharpened, and she reached up to tuck a flyaway strand of pale hair behind Peridot’s ear, grazing her fingernails along the skin as she went. “Tell me about you. _Quid pro quo.”_

“Me? I - uh -” Peridot floundered while Lapis sculpted little circles against her neck with the tips of her fingers. Her nails scraped light enough to tease but hard enough to make Peridot twitch. “My family was never well off. I had to work from a young age. Factories in the city. You could say I found my calling with machinery there. No place for a kid, though. Accidents happen.”

Lapis hummed. Her other hand stroked down Peridot’s thigh, tracing the inner seam of her trousers before tapping at her leg. “That’s how this happened, I suppose?”

“Y-Yeah.” As hard as she tried, Peridot couldn’t keep the stammer from her voice.

“And then what?” Lapis’ fingers tugged at the hastily arranged necktie draped down Peridot’s chest, pulling at the knot until the black cotton uncoiled like a noose. “You scraped together what earnings you could? Got a scholarship? Lived life by the skin of your teeth?”

“Something like that.” Swallowing thickly, Peridot’s throat bobbed when Lapis began to flick the first few buttons of her shirt free. When Lapis ducked her head to drag her teeth across her freckled collarbone, Peridot leaned her head back and groaned, “ _Oh god.”_

“Religious family?” Lapis murmured against her skin.

Through a clenched jaw, Peridot confirmed, “Irish Protestant.”

“Catholic,” Lapis replied in reference to herself. She ghosted her lips along Peridot’s throat -- up, up to the space just beneath her chin. “Very Catholic.”

Questing hands pushed aside Peridot’s shirt, parting the fabric until the buttons at her navel strained. Reaching up Peridot undid them herself while Lapis slipped her fingers beneath the dowdy brassiere that covered Peridot’s chest. There they made sparks, burning like potassium in water. Peridot gasped, “My mother would have hated you.”

It was startled, Lapis’ burst of laughter. She leaned her forehead against Peridot’s half-naked shoulder, and a graceless snort escaped her. Pulling back to look Peridot full in the face, Lapis grinned widely. “Mothers tend to do that.”

Peridot moved forward to kiss her, and Lapis watched, immobile, with that same sharp smile. A frisson crawled up Peridot’s spine. It felt dangerous, being so near her. Like placing her face too close to a series of quick-whirring cogs, all sharp-edged and shark-toothed, churning the waters to a rapid boil. Then again, Peridot didn’t have the most outstanding record for preservation of life and limb. Why start now?

When their mouths met, Lapis kissed her hungrily, demandingly. The rim of the desk dug into Peridot’s back, and her neck bent at an angle as Lapis yanked at her hair with one hand, the other scratching an unyielding path from breast to hip. A shocked hiss escaped her, and Lapis went very still at the noise. “Too much?”

“It’s -” Peridot shifted somewhat so that the hard edge of Lapis’ hipbone settled more comfortably against her. “If you like it, then it’s fine.”

Lapis studied her with an inscrutable expression. Trying to read her was an exercise in ciphers, a rotor machine spitting out Vigenère code. “It’s not just about what I like.”

Frowning in puzzlement, Peridot said slowly, “You’ve never asked me in the past.”

Lapis’ jaw tightened. “Well, I’m asking you now.”

Peridot chewed thoughtfully at her lower lip before replying, “A little less, then. I’ll let you know if it’s too much.”

A low hum in agreement, and then Lapis tipped her head forward, nudging Peridot’s chin back for better access to her throat. Her thumb stroked a soothing path across Peridot’s waist, maddeningly soft and slow.

“Not _that_ less. _”_ Impatient at the sudden change in pace, Peridot grumbled. “I’m tougher than I look.”

If anything Lapis seemed amused by that notion. Peridot only had a moment to be galled before Lapis fixed her teeth in the side of her neck, nails to the curve of her flank, biting down with increasing pressure until Peridot pawed at her back and let out a whine. “That’s - Yes -”

Moving along in a steady track, Lapis left reddening marks in her wake, running just on the brim of too severe, until Peridot was squirming beneath her. She fumbled with the belt buckle at Peridot’s waist, and when Lapis’ fingers finally pressed up against her, Peridot buried her face in the crook of her neck. The desk legs gave a squeal of complaint against the polished concrete floor as Lapis shoved her atop it. A few old files slipped beneath her, but Peridot couldn’t bring herself to care, not with Lapis jerking her pants down her knees, where the fabric snagged upon the joint of her prosthesis.

Any noise she would have made was swallowed up when Lapis kissed her. Always, under all that sleek outward presentation, there lingered around Lapis a sense of roughness. A wildness bursting at the seams like an unpolished stone, or the oxidised sheen of an alkali metal. Two fingers thrust up into slick heat, followed by a third, and Peridot clutched at the broad straps of Lapis’ dress, parting to gasp and catch the breath Lapis had stolen away.

A thumb swiped across Peridot’s clit, and in return she gave a deep shudder. Again and again Lapis repeated the motion, watching Peridot disassemble in her hands. It could have been the thrill of sex in a new location with the threat of people nearby that reminded Peridot of the first time they had done this on the very night they’d met. It could have been the damp smell of the office chair cushions like the salt-saturated couch of Mayor Dewey’s beach house. It could have been the way Lapis bent her free wrist beneath one of Peridot’s knees to push her legs wide apart, curling her other fingers buried deep until Peridot choked on a moan. It could have been any combination therein, but the memory of that night -- Lapis bold and still simmering with anger, Lapis tasting of the ocean, Lapis gilded in moonlight until her skin shone a ghostly blue, Peridot utterly enthralled -- and she was undone.

Peridot was still shuddering and rocking her hips to a shallow rhythm when Lapis began hurriedly pulling up the hem of her dress, propping a knee atop the desk. Before Peridot could do more than grip Lapis’ thigh however, a noise drew their attention to the windows. Something loud, unable to be ignored, and sounding remarkably like a --

“Gunshot.” Lapis groaned and leaned her forehead briefly against Peridot's still heaving chest, muttering into sweat-slicked skin. “I'm going to kill her.”

Pulling away, Lapis stood and straightened the dress down her hips, smoothing back her hair with a few expert touches. Breathless, Peridot stared as Lapis withdrew a handheld mirror from her bag and dragged her fingers carefully around her mouth to wipe away any smeared lipstick. Glancing down at herself, Peridot scrubbed at a few dark red marks with the heel of her palm. Some of them came off, but the vast majority were bruises that would remain for nearly a week.

Hopping unsteadily back down to the floor, Peridot gathered her clothes from around her ankles. She rose up on her toes as she yanked her pants into place. When she stole a glance up, Lapis was regarding her over the round mother-of-pearl mirror, paused in the act of reapplying her lipstick. For reasons that eluded her, the unfathomable look Lapis was giving her now made Peridot flush.

With a snap Lapis shut her compact, twisting the tube of lipstick and tucking both away into her bag. She hesitated at the gloves there, but did not put them on again. “Come on.” Lapis said, brisk, her dagger-like shoes clacking against the ground as she strode over to the door. “We ought to make sure Jasper hasn’t actually gotten herself killed.”

Scooping up her necktie, Peridot followed, hastily buttoning up her shirt as she went. The two of them stepped out of the office, and standing next to Lapis -- chic, kempt Lapis with her short white-tipped manicure like little half-moons at her fingertips -- Peridot felt scrubby. She peered down her nose, going a bit cross-eyed in order to fold the necktie into place. A few smudges on her glasses obscured her vision. Peridot ignored them for now, trotting after Lapis into the open warehouse.

There, standing a few paces from one another, Jasper aimed a revolver at two strangers with their hands held up at chest-height, palms open to show they were unarmed. “Who are they?” Peridot asked under her breath.

“The competition.” Lapis pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “This is exactly what I didn’t want from my week.”

“Where’s the runt? Trespassing on someone else’s property?” Jasper growled at the others, her arm held perfectly steady, glaring down the barrel of her Colt.

“Amethyst didn’t accompany us,” the taller of the two answered. Her voice was cool, unruffled, and tempered by a smooth British accent.

In response Jasper’s thumb cocked the firearm with a resounding click. “You wouldn’t be lying to me now, would you, Garnet?”

The smaller one muttered something, and though it was in another language even Peridot could tell that it must have been scathing.

“Lapis,” Jasper barked gruffly, not taking her eyes off the two. “What did she say?”

Lapis shrugged, nonchalant, folding her arms across her chest. “I’ve called you worse.”

Garnet shot her companion an unimpressed look from behind her reflective sunglasses, light glinting off the lenses. “Insulting her at a time like this won’t do any good, Pearl.”

“No.” Pearl grumbled grudgingly, mouth twisting to a narrow line. “But it makes me feel better.”

“That’s fair.”

“Hey!” Jasper interrupted their casual banter with a harsh yell, taking a step forward. “Is the kid with you?”

At that even Lapis went stock still. A hush fell over the group, disturbed only by a dull creak of the steel rafters. Peridot resisted the urge to wipe a bead of sweat trickling down the nape of her neck, afraid the slightest movement would set this scenario off like acetone peroxide exposed to an open flame.

“Jasper!” Lapis hissed, her hands clenched, digging crescents into the flesh of her arms. Jasper ignored her.

“He’s not here,” Garnet said stiffly. Both she and Pearl were scowling fiercely now, their expressions darkened, their stances tense.

A crooked smile split Jasper’s face, revealing too many teeth and accenting the scar on her chin and upper lip. “What a shame. I was hoping he’d be here for this.”

“We weren’t trespassing intentionally!” Pearl snapped. “We’d been told this place was for sale, and came over to inspect the area!”

With a derisive snort Jasper countered, “You expect me to believe that? You picked a locked gate and snuck in to _inspect the area?”_

Pearl’s high brow knitted in confusion. “Locked?”

_Whoops._

When they had initially driven up to the warehouse, Lapis and Jasper had been bickering in the front seats, so Peridot had hopped out of the back with a sigh to open and close the gate. They were only supposed to have walked the grounds for a short time before leaving; she hadn’t thought re-locking the gate would be necessary.

Jasper’s head jerked around and she glared murder in Peridot’s direction. Shrinking away from the rage in those amber eyes, Peridot shuffled a few steps behind Lapis, who -- if anything -- appeared as exasperated as she was wary.

That proved the only opening Garnet and Pearl needed. In perfect synch they both leapt forward. Before Jasper could react, Garnet had swept her gun hand aside and Pearl had darted around to sweep her legs out from under her. A shot went astray, ringing in Peridot’s ears and she yelped, cowering before she could think how foolish she must have looked. She felt a firm touch on her shoulder, and when she peered up it was to find Lapis pulling her behind a pillar of steel. “Stay behind me,” Lapis said in a brook-no-nonsense tone, looking over her shoulder to keep a careful eye on the trio fighting not far off.

With a snarl Jasper managed to catch herself mid-stumble and swing the revolver around to clock Pearl across the brow, leaving a deep gash. Hissing, Pearl spun away, hand flying to her forehead to stem the sudden gush of blood that resulted from even a shallow headwound. Jasper raised her arm once more to aim the Colt, but Garnet was there. Her knuckles flashed with a brassy hue and Peridot realised why when they connected with the side of Jasper’s jaw.

A sickening crack filled the air and Jasper let loose a howl of pain and anger that echoed to the high ceilings, sending a few doves into startled flight. Not pausing to let Jasper recover, Garnet tried to wrestle the gun out of Jasper’s grasp. As they grappled over the weapon, engaged in a furious tug-of-war, the silvery barrel winking in the low light, Pearl circled. She snuck up behind Jasper to deliver a series of quick and vicious blows to her ribs.

Jasper swung one elbow around, but Pearl danced out of reach, and Jasper’s divided attention was all Garnet required to finally wrest the gun free. Desperate and furious, Jasper lunged forward to seize the firearm back, but Garnet knocked her flat with another strike of her fist. The brass knuckles adorning her hand were hazy with gore, and Jasper pitched to the floor.

Even through the curtain of fresh blood covering one side of Jasper’s face, dripping from her chin, Jasper tried scrambling upright. She only stopped when Garnet pointed the gun down at her. “Go on then!” Jasper snarled, baring her teeth. “Do it!”

“That’s not our way.” With an expert flip of her wrist that spun the cylinder round, Garnet emptied the Colt of ammunition, then snapped the cylinder back into place. Bullets rained at her feet. “I’ll be keeping this, and we’ll be leaving now.”

As they turned to stride away, Jasper lurched on the ground in an abortive motion, but remained where she was, rage painting her features into an ugly mess alongside the wounds there. Peridot shrank away from Garnet and Pearl as they passed, but they spared her and Lapis only a brief glance before they continued on their way. Pearl’s hand still worried at her forehead and Peridot heard her whisper to Garnet, “Do you think it will scar?”

“Only if you’re lucky,” Garnet teased back.

Peridot nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a touch on her arm. Spinning around she found Lapis looking at her, hand hovering over Peridot’s arm. “Are you ok?” Lapis asked.

From the ground, Jasper spat a mouthful of blood onto the concrete beneath her, specks of it staining her usually pristine white button-down. “Is _she_ ok?!”

Turning to glare, Lapis planted her hands on her hips. “I know you’re not. Look at you -- you’re a mess.”

A gurgling laugh, and Jasper winced, hand flying to her flank to cradle her ribs. “Like what you see, Deb?”

At that Lapis stiffened. From this angle Peridot couldn’t see her face, but she spoke as though biting off every word. “I’m going to get some med supplies from the car. Feel free to drown in your own fluids while I’m gone.”

The angry clack of Lapis’ heels faded the further she drew from them, and soon Peridot was alone with Jasper. She cleared her throat, but Jasper said nothing. For a moment Jasper simply lay there, breaths shallow, her massive chest and shoulders rising, falling. Then she struggled to sit upright, gritting her teeth when she tried to twist her torso.

Cautiously Peridot approached her. Crouching down, she held up her hands and said. “Can I -?”

With an annoyed huff -- aimed more at herself than at Peridot -- Jasper jerked her head in affirmation. Careful, Peridot moved around Jasper’s prone form. She hooked her hands beneath Jasper’s arms, but when Peridot tried to haul Jasper’s bulk upright she felt her legs give a dangerous wobble. “Sorry,” she grunted. “My bad leg isn’t really designed for heavy lifting.”

“Just get me leaning against that pillar.” Jasper sighed.

Peridot glanced over to see where Jasper was gesturing towards, then nodded. “I think we can manage that at least.”

Together they worked, grumbling and groaning like the world’s worst-oiled machine. Jasper’s heels scraped against the floor as Peridot heaved. At one point the joint of Peridot’s prosthetic ankle threatened to give way, and she was forced to pause and readjust one of the pins before continuing once more. In the end they made it, and Jasper leaned back against the base of the metal with a mumble of something explicit under her breath.

Sitting down beside her, Peridot studied the way both of their legs sprawled. Their dark-washed trousers bore matching smudges of pale dirt, though Peridot’s feet barely reached Jasper’s calves, even slumped as she was. From this position she noticed Jasper’s half-smoked cigar on the floor some distance away, its end smoulder-bright; it must have been discarded sometime earlier. Glancing furtively to the side, Peridot asked, “Are you going to be alright?”

“I’ve lived through worse.” Jasper brushed off Peridot’s concerned look with a gruff wave of one hand.

“What -” Peridot swallowed past a nervous rasp in her throat. “What was that all about?”

“Business,” Jasper grunted. She tongued at a split in her lower lip and wiped at the side of her face that bore the brunt of the damage. Her sleeve came away streaked with red and she scowled at the stain. “Let me guess, that was your first fight?”

Peridot grimaced and twisted her fingers together in her lap. “It was -- well, ‘brutish’ is a word that comes to mind.”

Jasper let out a bark of ill-advised laughter, tilting her head so as to look down at Peridot with her good eye. “You think that’s brutish, you should see Lapis on a bad night.”

“Lapis?” Peridot’s face screwed up in puzzlement.

“You really don’t know do you?” Jasper shook her head with a rueful chuckle, tipping her chin back to lean her head against the square pillar. “Don’t you remember the night you first met? You saw how she reacted to that idiot who bumped into her.”

Shrugging, Peridot replied, “I figured he must have done something else to offend her.”

“I doubt it,” Jasper snorted, derisive. “Has she ever touched you with her gloves on?”

Peridot opened her mouth to answer that of course Lapis had done so, but she stopped. Frowned. Thought back. It was so simple a gesture. Surely it must have happened at some point, but for the life of her Peridot couldn’t recall even an innocuous brush of fingers in public.

Seeing the hesitation on Peridot’s face, the sudden doubt, Jasper grinned broadly. “You should try it sometime. See what happens.”

Before Peridot could reply, their black Touring pulled into the warehouse through the main entrance in a screech of narrow white tyres. It swerved around piles of debris and torn up flooring, coming to a halt a few paces away. The door opened and Lapis stepped out, carrying mismatched items under one arm. She slammed the door shut behind her and strode over, sorting through the packs of gauze and a nondescript brown bottle with a faded yellowing label.

Coming up to where both Jasper and Peridot sat on the ground, Lapis shuffled the gauze and the bottle around in her grasp, kneeling down. Uncharacteristically gentle, she tipped Jasper’s face up, fingers under her broad, scarred chin to better inspect the damage done.

“What’s the prognosis? Are my days of rugged good looks behind me?” Jasper gave a grin that looked more like a flinch.

A huff of soft incredulous laughter escaped Lapis. Upending the bottle of what appeared to be iodine, she dabbed a healthy amount onto a piece of gauze, dying it a rich orange. “Hold still.”

Carefully, she cleaned up the wounds on Jasper’s face, swiping away broad streaks of blood. When a piece of gauze began to weep red, she simply tossed it to the ground with a splat and began anew. The rust-red scent of blood filled the air, little droplets sprinkled across the dusty floor. Already one of Jasper’s eyes was beginning to swell shut, and Peridot winced just at the sight of it.

“You’re going to have another scar.” Lapis traced a slice of skin that had been taken from Jasper’s jaw, and she pursed her lips. “You shouldn’t let yourself get hurt like this.”

“Unless it’s by you, right?” Jasper goaded, and her teeth flashed, slicked with blood.

Lapis opened her mouth as though to deliver an icy retort, but her eyes flickered over to where Peridot sat nearby, watching. As if she only now just remembered that they had an audience. Something marred her face as surely as Jasper’s was riddled with wounds. Something fathomless and cruel. Then, turning her attention sharply back to her patient once more, Lapis jerked Jasper’s head to the side. “I said: _hold still.”_

 

* * *

 

The three of them didn’t have much cause to see one another over the course of the next few weeks. Peridot -- still apprehensive about the possibility of running into Garnet and Pearl again -- oversaw the cleanup of the new site and the transference of kit while Jasper convalesced. Even with Lapis’ warning to not believe everything Jasper said, Peridot couldn’t help but feel somewhat exposed without her usual escort. Though if anyone asked, she would answer truthfully that the peace and quiet was a nice change of pace for once.

Lapis on the other hand alternated between making runs in her plane to various drop sites designated to her by the powers that be, and watching over Jasper.

“It mostly involves making sure she doesn’t try doing anything herself.” Lapis sighed, leaning back in the wrought-iron chair. “Only a damn fool wouldn’t think cracked ribs are cause enough to let someone else reach for the sugar. Why does she have to keep everything on such high shelves?” The last came out a surly mutter. Seeing the odd look Peridot was giving her, Lapis grimaced. “Sorry. We should talk about something else.”

Peridot gave her a reassuring grin, though to her it felt synthetic, like something she’d forge in a workshop. “No. It’s fine. Trust me, if I had to take care of Jasper for weeks I’d want to rant about it too.”

Together they sat at a trendy café on 58th. The moment Peridot had returned to Manhattan, she had sought Lapis out. If anything Lapis seemed grateful for the excuse to wander, even if the late autumn air turned Peridot’s nose red. Inside however the café was warm and pleasant in a way that made Peridot sit on the edge of her seat, wary of the aura of niceties and social grace. Normally Peridot wouldn’t be caught dead at a place like this. Not because she wouldn’t have eyed the people enjoying themselves at such an establishment as she ambled by, but because she had never imagined herself as the café scene type.

She felt underdressed and most of all undercapitalised. She thought about the dismal state of her wallet and then promptly tried to think about something else.

“How’s the new operation going?” Lapis asked, her tone more polite than genuinely interested. One arm was draped over the back of her chair, and she idly inspected one of her fur-lined gloves as she spoke. Her face was half-shadowed by the wool cloche tilted rakishly on her head, but Peridot studied the way her nose wrinkled with distaste when Lapis found a speck of dirt sullying the expensive material of her glove.

“We’re still setting up.” Peridot answered. The buzz of people mingling set her teeth on edge, but she pushed the feeling back. If she pretended it was the drone of machinery instead, she could stand it. “I made sure the distillery process was all up and running, and left the project manager in charge of the rest.”

“I don’t suppose you’ve seen any more of the competition?” Lapis tried to make herself sound aloof and disaffected, but a keen note silvered her voice.

“No. I actually wanted to ask -”

Before Peridot could continue, a waiter appeared at their table bearing a tray of drinks. Peridot waved him forward to take their two drinks from him with a murmur of thanks. As she balanced two cups of steaming coffee on their saucers, he placed milk and sugar on the table then left them with a quick bow of his head.

Peridot paused in the act of placing both their drinks down on the table, and instead changed trajectories. She handed the cup directly over to Lapis, who gingerly reached out to take it. Deliberately, Peridot brushed their fingers together, feeling the texture of soft suede, and Lapis jerked, nearly dropping the drink.

A faint hiss escaped Lapis as a few stray drops of coffee spilled onto the saucer, but none of it got on her gloves. Still her dark eyes narrowed, though she merely squinted at Peridot and said nothing on the subject apart from a tight-lipped, “Thank you.”

The precise way she removed the gloves to handle the small teaspoon buried in a tray of sugar. The thoroughness with which she wiped down the saucer and mug with a serviette before pulling the gloves back into place and taking a sip of her drink. Peridot slurped at her own coffee as she watched, before making a face when she realised that in studying Lapis she had forgotten to water down the bitterness with milk and sugar.

“You had a question?” Lapis prompted while Peridot piled a few heaping teaspoons of sugar into her cup and dyed the black liquid to a shade just on the brink of egg-shell white.

“Yes. Back there, Jasper mentioned a kid?” Peridot began. An unknown gentleman tapped her gently on the shoulder and made a gesture, and Peridot shuffled her chair forward to let him pass through the crowded space between herself and the table behind her. She let her wrist brush against one of Lapis’ gloved hands as she settled back into her seat.

Lapis’ entire body went rigid, her gaze sharpening. She opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it again with a click of teeth and a clenched jaw. Tense, Lapis snatched up her cup of coffee once more and took a scalding gulp before replying. “His name is Steven. He’s -” Lapis placed the cup firmly back on its saucer so that the ceramic clattered. “Why are you asking me about this? What are your intentions exactly?”

“I mean - I just figured since talking about yourself isn’t usually -” Realising she might be sounding accusatory, Peridot swerved mid-sentence. “Not that you should feel pressured to divulge information. Your privacy is your privacy, and I just -” With a sigh, Peridot slumped back in her chair and pushed her coffee mug around in a circle on its saucer, finishing off with a lame mutter. “I don’t know much of anything about you. The most I learned about you in months was back at that warehouse.”

For a long moment Lapis said nothing and the only sounds were those of other patrons. A curl of pale fragrant steam twisted in the air near her throat like a cog. When she spoke it was slowly, each word precise. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Bristling, Peridot pushed the coffee away from herself to resist the incessant desire to fidget. In spite of that, she began jiggling her good leg under the table. “I signed up for this job knowing exactly what I was getting into. I’m an adult, and I make my own decisions.”

Lapis clenched her hands into fists atop the table, straining the suede white around her knuckles. “I wasn’t just referring to the job.”

“I understand you don't want to hurt me, but-” Peridot began, but Lapis interrupted her.

“I never said that.”

Peridot blinked. “I - What?’

Lapis watched her with a stare hard and unblinking. “I never said I didn't want to hurt you. I said I don't want you getting hurt.”

With a disbelieving laugh, Peridot shook her head. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would you hurt me?”

It was supposed to be an innocent gesture, reaching out to lace her fingers with Lapis. They had done it in the past. In private. Curled up in a tangle of sheets in Peridot’s shabby apartment down in the Bowery. A rare night in which Lapis had been feeling uncommonly easygoing. Except this time Lapis snatched both her hands back and snapped, “What are you doing?”

The look of suspicion she was giving her made Peridot falter. “I’m just - Jasper said -”

At that Lapis’ face darkened, and when she spoke her voice carried a dangerous lilt. “What did Jasper say?”

“N-Nothing, really.” The way Lapis was watching her made the blood run cold in Peridot’s veins. Those eyes ate at her, black and corrosive.

Furious, Lapis stood in an abrupt screech of chair legs against tile. The sudden movement made Peridot start, and on the table their unfinished coffees rattled on their saucers. Seething, Lapis announced without preamble, “Excuse me.”

Heart hammering in her chest, Peridot watched Lapis storm towards the exit, pausing at the door to gird herself against the outside chill with the jacket she had hung upon their arrival. Neck and shoulders draped with a white fur shawl, she left, her departure heralded by a gentle tinkling of bells strung to the door.

All the breath whooshed from Peridot’s lungs the moment Lapis was out of sight, but the tightness in her chest refused to unspool. She ran both hands through her short hair, knowing that her dishevelled appearance was twice as noticeable without Lapis at her side to level the playing field in a joint like this. “Well, that was…”

Peridot trailed off. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the chain of a handbag cropping out near her feet beneath the table. Scooting back, she leaned down to pick it up, realising with a groan that in her haste Lapis had left it behind. Peridot sighed. She leaned back in her seat, running her thumbs over the stylised seashell motif lavishly sewn into the velvet. She could keep it until she saw Lapis again, although Lord only knew when that would be. Not knowing where Lapis lived didn’t help at all; their rendezvous were always held strictly at Peridot’s apartment. Which meant that her only other option was -

Grumbling a few curses under her breath that would have earned her a pair of boxed ears if her mother were still alive, Peridot jammed her hand into her back pocket to pull out a handful of change. She counted the coins for exact change before sweeping the rest back into her palm and stuffing it out of sight. As she rose to leave, shrugging her jacket into place, Peridot pointedly busied herself with winding the the hole-riddled wooly scarf around her neck rather than acknowledge the waiter’s nasty look at the lack of a tip. She could barely afford a coffee at this snazzy place let alone a decent tip. God forbid she actually have enough money to eat something this week of any nutritional value.

Outside it had begun to drizzle. “Just my luck,” Peridot muttered. She turned up the collar of her moth-eaten peacoat, the bulky shapeless fabric swallowing her figure from jaw to mid-thigh. It was the only decently warm item of clothing she owned, and she would frequently wander around her apartment wrapped up inside it like an extra blanket. Come January past experience said she’d be sleeping with it over her threadbare sheets as well, though already this job had begun to fully realise itself and she should be able to treat herself to some warmer amenities. If she could ever convince herself to part with money in the first place.

A blast of warm air billowed white from a ventilation shaft as Peridot walked down the street, clutching Lapis’ bag close. The crowded rain-slicked pavement was bad enough, but at least it hadn’t yet grown cold enough that ice had begun to form on the sidewalks. Still Peridot picked her steps carefully, hugging the buildings on one side so that people would be less inclined to bump into her and send her stumbling. At least once she descended the steps to the nearest subway Peridot could brush the water from her hair, resulting in a slick-backed look that she didn’t think suited her but which she could do little about in this kind of weather.

It was a ten minute ride down 9th to the Garment District, and from there a two minute walk to her destination. From what Peridot could tell, Jasper didn’t have an apartment of her own. She bounced around various HQ temp properties usually in Lower Manhattan, and never north of 110th. The current building wasn’t a looker by any means, but Peridot admired the brick facade with an appraising eye all the same. Three painstaking flights of stairs later, and she was panting down a narrow hallway as she trudged along.

She paused when she arrived at Jasper’s apartment. Bag clutched under one arm, Peridot cocked her head at the gap, the door slightly ajar. She knocked, rapping her knuckles against the woodgrain, but when nobody answered she pushed it open fully. The door swung inward, creaking slightly, and Peridot entered with a feeble, “Hello?” Nothing answered apart from the faint arguing of neighbours through the walls.

Glancing around the room, hesitant, Peridot shrugged. A cursory look told her that Jasper carried nothing in terms of personal items. The small lounge opened up to a kitchen on the left, and neither had anything but an air of Spartan necessity about them. As far as Peridot could tell, Jasper’s personal space was ruled with the same firm militance as the rest of her life. Even the the closed logbook resting on the coffee table was an aspect of her work and not of her personal interests.

Peridot crossed the space and placed Lapis’ bag on the table. She was about to turn around and leave, when she thought better of it. Flipping open the logbook -- which looked identical to Peridot's personal one back home -- she tore a blank page from the back and cast around in a nearby drawer until she found a pen. The ink was dried up in the nib, but with a bit of coaxing Peridot was able to scrawl a note and place the bag atop it.

Bent over double, just adding her name to the bottom of the page, Peridot paused. A few low murmurs through the walls to her right suddenly rose in pitch, voices that she had originally thought to be some neighbours, but which she now recognised.

She should leave. She should really just leave. This was none of her business.

It was a mantra in her head like the dissonant notes of a piano, hammers striking metal wires to create a tinny clanging, and yet Peridot straightened, inched forward, peered around a doorway. The slender view this angle allowed showed that at least one room in the apartment seemed properly lived in. A pair of leather-soled boots littered the space beneath a rumpled bed, beside which was perched an open book on a low table. A wristwatch, practical and sturdy. A scattering of makeup. But what caught Peridot’s eye most of all were the two people inside.

Jasper towered over her by a full head and shoulders, and still somehow Lapis had managed to back her into a corner. “What did you tell her?” Lapis’ back was facing the door. The fur ruff of her coat obscured her face, revealing only the crest of her round hat.

“Nothing.”

Lapis shoved at Jasper’s chest with both hands, forcing her back a wincing half step. “Stay out of this, Jasper.”

There was a smirk in Jasper’s tone, bare and smug, though from this angle all Peridot could see was Jasper cradling her sensitive ribs. “Seems to me like you’re not being honest with yourself.”

“And that’s my choice.” Lapis snapped back.

“What’s wrong?” Jasper continued to goad her on. “Afraid you’ll break her? Afraid you’ll like it?”

“Stop talking! Just -!”

“You can’t break me, though. You can try and try and let it all out.”

A glaring silence fell, and then Lapis said in a voice that was soft but vehement. “I hate you.”

“Yeah. I know.” Jasper laughed, and it sounded bitter. “When will I see you again?”

If Lapis gave an answer, it wasn’t audible. Peridot barely had enough time to spin around and try sneaking off, but before she could make it halfway to the exit she heard those signature heels against the floor. She should have kept her big nose where it belonged. Now even if she ran -- which was a laughable idea in and of itself -- Lapis would still catch sight of her at the staircase.

The click of footfalls stopped abruptly as Lapis froze in the bedroom doorway behind her. She didn’t say Peridot’s name or make any noise for that matter, but Peridot knew she’d been found out all the same.

Taking a deep breath, Peridot turned back around, trying and failing to settle the roiling in her gut that stung like flouric acid. The explanation poured from her in a rush, in a single long breath. “You left your bag behind, and I didn’t know when I’d see you next, and I don’t know where you live, and Jasper - uh - Jasper -”

As if summoned, Jasper appeared behind Lapis. Her amber eyes looked between the two of them, and then she stepped past Lapis. She continued to walk directly by Peridot without a second glance, striding into the kitchen and pulling open the pantry door. “Next time you two come over, you should at least have the decency to bring some food with you.”

Lapis looked like she wanted to say something, but instead she pursed her lips. She took a step forward, and subconsciously Peridot took a step back. At that, Lapis froze and something stricken flickered across her face before she grappled back an expression of icy calm. She walked over the coffee table and looked down at her bag and the note pinned beneath it. Pulling the note free, Lapis turned it over between her bare fingers, the gloves tucked into her coat pocket. Then she picked up the discarded pen and wrote something on the back.

“Here.” Lapis held the page out, walking forward for Peridot to take it. “If you’re so curious.”

Gingerly Peridot plucked the note free. On one side was her own familiar scrawl, while on the other Lapis’ neat hand swirled in fine ribbons of ink. Three simple lines and nothing more: an address, a date, and a time.

From the kitchen Jasper mumbled around a mouthful of pastrami sandwich, “If you're both done, can you leave now?”

 

* * *

 

There was a shawl draped over the back of an armchair. A few species of hats atop the coat rack in the corner. A handful of books adorning a lonely shelf, their covers bound and faded, some in languages beyond Peridot’s ken. A tired vanity against the far wall holding bottles of scent and cream, and an antique silver-backed hand held mirror that had begun to tarnish. Peridot cast an eye over the space, immediately noting possible trip points -- the snub-nosed edge of an Iranian rug here, the trailing end of a bedsheet there -- while at the same time remarking quietly to herself how frighteningly similar Lapis and Jasper’s apartments appeared. Neither seemed to accumulate more personal items than could fit into a single piece of luggage.

It wasn’t an opulent space by any stretch of the imagination, but in comparison to what Peridot grew up with it might as well have been a Sheik’s lair. She shuffled to the side in order to lean against the doorframe and remove her shoes, feeling that she would drag in the dirt of the city with her.

“You’re here early.” Lapis remarked. Seated at the vanity her back remained to the door and she rubbed lotion into the backs of her hands. The silk robe belted loosely around her waist slipped low at the collar, revealing the nape of her neck.

“Why is she here at all?” Jasper added from her place sprawled across the bed, one foot swinging down the side so that her bare heel scuffed the tasseled end of the rug. Her broad-featured face bore its usual scowl, though there was an anticipation in the way she worried at the end of her long braid.

“I asked her to join us.” Lapis glanced at Jasper’s foot kicking near the leg of her chair, and though Peridot could not fully see her face the slant of her cheek itself was distasteful. “Do you have an issue with that?”

Jasper paused in tugging at her thick braid. She squinted at Lapis for a long moment, then turned her gaze upon Peridot with a sneer, “No.”

Perhaps it was the way Jasper’s eyes flicked down to her prosthetic peeking out beneath the leg of her trouser, but suddenly Peridot felt exposed.

Lapis half twisted in her seat, propping her crossed arms over the high back of the chair. “Are you sure? We need to be on the same page, or I’m calling it off.”

Jasper bared her teeth as though in a challenge. “It’s fine.”

While they spoke Peridot shucked her pea coat and tugged the scarf from around her neck, standing at the outskirts of their conversation like an intruder. She made a motion to hook her things on the coat rack, but stopped when she realised there was no space. Seeing her silent dilemma, Lapis said, “Just put it over the chair.”

Relieved at having clear instructions, Peridot did as suggested and sank down into the armchair in question. From here she noticed an empty cup and matching pot of cold tea resting on the floor to one side. The only way Peridot could resist the urge to fidget and bend over to inspect the tea set was by sitting on her hands. “So-” she cleared her throat when two pairs of eyes fixed on her. “What exactly is going to happen here?”

Lapis cocked her head then answered, matter-of-fact, “I’m going to hurt her, and she’s going to like it. I may ask you to participate in some way. You may refuse at any time. You may leave at any time -- just close the door behind you. You may ask questions at any time, though I ask that you do not address Jasper.”

“I’m right here,” Jasper grumbled from the bed.

“You’re in enough trouble as it is,” Lapis hissed at her. “Don’t push me tonight.”

In response Jasper merely gave a petulant shrug of her massive shoulders. She didn’t say anything else however.

“Is….that it?” Peridot asked, hesitant, raising her hand slightly as if back in a lecture hall.

“That’s it.” Lapis rose to her feet and began to turn away, but paused and added. “And unless I specify otherwise: _don’t_ touch me. Under any circumstance.”

Throat dry, Peridot swallowed. She nodded. “Right.”

From where she sat in the armchair, Peridot had a direct view of the rest of the room: vanity to her left, washbasin and kitchenette to her right, bed directly ahead. She glanced at Jasper to gauge her reaction, but Jasper had eyes for only one person in the room.

Lapis plucked at the belt around her waist, letting the robe slip to the floor in a silky ripple. Beneath it she wore a sheer gown that fell just beyond her knees. The fabric scooped low down her back, freeing her arms, and Peridot counted the notches in her spine. Snapping her fingers at Jasper, Lapis ordered, “Strip and lie face down on the bed.”

For a brief moment confusion swept across Jasper’s face. “But what about -?” She gestured to Lapis’ bare hands and arms.

“Not yet.” Lapis jerked her head towards the mattress.

Movements slow, Jasper swung her legs over the side of the bed, shrugging out of her suspenders. It was a practised show, her undressing. Routine and unabashed. Bruises still yellowed in angry splotches beneath the skin of her ribs, though she moved as if presented with no residual pain. When she made to lift her hips and remove her pants, Lapis held out one hand. “Belt.”

Without hesitation Jasper slid the belt free from its loops and passed it over. She finished undressing, but was transfixed by the way Lapis folded the leather contemplatively in her grasp. A barely contained shiver ran through her when Lapis gave the belt an experimental snap.

Jasper’s ankles hung over the side of the bed when she lay down as instructed. Stepping forward, Lapis dragged the leather strap over the soles of her feet and up to the bulge of muscle at her calves. “You can stand to be cut down a few inches,” she murmured softly. “Perhaps another time.”

Then she moved up, tracing the belt along Jasper’s thighs -- as wide around as both of Peridot’s combined -- along the dimples of Jasper’s lower back, coming to rest at the faded bruising at her ribs. There Lapis pressed, and something keen whetted her expression when Jasper shied away from the pressure. “Still sore after all.”

“Get on with it,” Jasper growled, voice muffled by the sheets. Her body glowed with tension. “It’s been over a month.”

At that Lapis darted forward, grabbing the base of that long braid and yanking her head back until Jasper’s torso bowed off the bed. The motion was so fluid and abrupt, Peridot heard rather than felt the sharp intake of breath that filled her lungs. Her hands were sore, and when she looked down it was to find that at some point they had moved to grip the arms of the chair until her knuckles flashed white and bloodless. Shakily, she forced them to relax.

One of Lapis’ knees dug into Jasper’s back, the nightgown caught between them. “You should be on your best behaviour for our audience.” Her voice remained deceptively low as she gagged Jasper with the belt, securing the leather between her teeth, the buckle behind her head. Something wordless rumbled in Jasper’s chest, and Lapis hummed a note of amusement. “See? You can be quiet when you try.”

Shoving Jasper’s face roughly against the bed Lapis rose to her feet once more. “Peridot?”

Peridot started at hearing her name. She tried to answer, but had to clear her throat so that she didn’t squeak. “Yes?”

“I’m going to need your belt and your bowtie.”

Fingers trembling, Peridot removed the articles of clothing in question. She was about to stand but Lapis padded across the carpet on bare feet to take the items from her instead. That familiar indecipherable look had returned to Lapis’ eyes. Meeting her gaze felt like pressing her hands against something cold and black and unyielding. Very carefully Peridot held out the items -- one in each hand -- so that their fingers did not brush during the exchange.

Taking them, Lapis crossed back over to the bed and leaned down to press the green-chequered bowtie between Jasper’s fingers. “You know what to do with this.”

As Lapis straightened, Jasper’s hand clenched around the fabric, tendons straining until the muscles in her forearm bunched into a single knot. Folding Peridot’s belt over, Lapis settled her feet wide and coolly studied the broad expanse of Jasper’s back before lifting her arm overhead.

The first fall of the strap met skin with a dull smack. Jasper’s entire frame stiffened, coiling with tension, but she didn’t let loose a sound. Again Lapis swung her arm back, bringing the belt down with enough force to make Peridot blink. Across shoulders, hips, buttocks, and thighs Lapis branded red stripes along flesh. Through the lampshade beside the vanity light played off of them, dappled in gem-like tones. From the chair Peridot watched, shifting in her seat. The smooth plain of Lapis’ bare back peered through the low dip of her nightgown while Jasper toiled on the bed. Lapis’ short hair was a sleek dark crown tapering at the back of her neck, and Peridot wanted to run her hands through it. To trace down the curve of her spine and press between her wing-like shoulder blades.

When at last Jasper gave a deep strangled moan, Lapis paused. Her hands shook, and yet she clambered atop the bed to loop the belt around Jasper’s neck with both hands, tightening like a garrote wire. The line of Lapis’ shoulders tensed and relaxed, tensed and relaxed. In her head Peridot counted the intervals -- stretches of four seconds at a time -- but no matter how hard Lapis pushed, Jasper’s grip only tightened around the bowtie like a lifeline.

Loosening the belt until it was held slackly at the base of Jasper’s throat with one hand, Lapis reached between Jasper’s legs with the other. A choked noise rasped at the back of Jasper’s throat when Lapis finally touched her. Fingers light and probing, Lapis toyed with her until Jasper’s toes curled over the side of the bed. Then planting a knee against Jasper’s ribs, Lapis nudged softly at the bruising there.

Jasper panted past the leather strap in her mouth, every breath sounding rough as she jerked her hips. She came with a keening whine, and Lapis coaxed her through it until Jasper buried her forehead into the sheets and went haltingly still.

Straightening, Lapis stood. She wiped her hand off on the bedsheet before tossing one of the belts aside and unbuckling the other. When she removed the belt from Jasper’s mouth, deep gouges pierced the leather there. Peridot was briefly grateful of the fact that the ruined belt hadn’t belonged to her. In a creak of bedsprings, Jasper rolled over on the mattress. Lapis reached out to stroke Jasper’s cheek with the backs of her fingers, but as soon as Jasper attempted to return the gesture Lapis stepped away.

Posture rigid, Lapis crossed over to the washbasin, sparing Peridot a passing glance that sent a chill down to her toes. She looked like the spinning machine that took Peridot’s leg at the age of seven. A glossy, churning instrument that pulled apart cotton as surely as it pulled apart fingers -- with exact dispassion. Then Lapis was washing her hands in the basin, scrubbing her palms with soap and wiping them down with a fresh towel. She drained a glass of water from the tepid kettle, then poured another, walking back over to place it on the bedside table for Jasper, who made no indication that she noticed the gesture.

“There is a briefcase under your chair.” It took Peridot a moment to realise that Lapis was in fact speaking to her. “I want you to bring it to me.”

Reluctant to take her eyes off Lapis, Peridot nonetheless dared a peek beneath her seat. Sure enough she pulled out a briefcase, and had plucked up the key atop it, about to unlock the case when she heard, “ _Don’t -!”_ Lapis cut herself off, but not before an ugly snarl entered her voice. “Just bring it to me.”

Peridot stood and her eyes flickered to the door. She could of course leave at any time. She could also ask questions. Her thumbs grazed the side of the hard-backed briefcase, and she said, “What’s in this?”

Lapis forced her fingers to uncurl before answering. “That is my best glove collection.”

Frowning down at the case, Peridot pressed. “How long have you been collecting them?”

“A long time.”

At this point, Jasper was sitting up in bed, sipping at the glass of water. She rolled her shoulders with the occasional wince, but she watched their conversation closely, saying nothing as though intrigued to know how far Lapis would allow this line of questioning.

Taking a step forward, Peridot stopped, blurting out. “Are you going to hurt me? Or ask me to hurt Jasper?”

Lapis’ eyes flashed. “Only if you want me to.”

Swallowing past a sudden dryness in her throat, Peridot’s gaze darted nervously between Lapis and Jasper. The former watched her with the intensity of a falcon, while the latter’s mouth quirked with wry amusement. “I don’t think -” Peridot stammered, unsure how to articulate her hesitation.

“Then I won’t,” Lapis said simply. She held out one hand and waved Peridot forward, commanding but not patronising.

Fears somewhat appeased, Peridot crossed the remainder of the distance and held the case forward. Rather than take it however, Lapis gathered up the key and with an expert twist of her wrist unlocked the brass clasps holding the lid shut. She opened it and poured over its contents. Every now and then Lapis would reach up to stroke some fabric or animal skin or another and let out a pensive little sigh, and out of curiosity Peridot craned her neck around to see inside.

Rows upon rows of gloves filed painstakingly together. Gloves to make her dead mother cross herself with self-inflicted piety. Gloves to make her dead sisters green with envy. Peridot stared at them, utterly baffled. She couldn’t think of a single pair that would suit her, but every single one would flatter Lapis in any variety of ways.

After a long while -- long enough for Peridot’s arms to begin to grow uncomfortable from holding the case up -- Lapis finally chose a pair and locked the hard-backed case once more. Taking it from her, Lapis propped it against the bedside table only after shooting Jasper’s glass of water there a suspicious glare to ensure it was empty. When she turned to face Peridot, Lapis thumbed at the gloves. “I'd like you to undress me. And remember --” she held up a hand when Peridot began to reach for her “--don’t touch my skin.”

Peridot's fingers found the short fluttering sleeves at Lapis’ shoulders and pulled, slipping them down her arms where they rested at the crook of elbows. Lapis let her arms fall to her side so that Peridot could free them. The satiny fabric caught on Lapis’ hips and Peridot had to lean forward to pinch the gown above her thighs and tug it softly down. She wore nothing beneath, and when it collapsed around her ankles Lapis stood bare. Lapis stepped forward out of the garment encircling her feet, and Peridot had to lean back so that her cheek did not press against Lapis’ sternum.

Lapid held out the gloves. “Put them on me.”

Peridot had little to no eye for fashion, but she took a moment to admire them before doing as requested. They were short, reaching just past the wrist, and woven entirely of lace. For fear of tearing the material, Peridot worked them slowly over Lapis’ knuckles before fastening the line of small buttons along the outer edges like droplets of bright gold. The fine black lace shimmered against the backs of Lapis’ hands like a raven's wing, all blues and greens. In some areas the artful tooling swirled in intricate designs -- cranes caught mid-flight over a lakeside scene -- whereas in others her skin was almost entirely visible through the gossamer webbing.

Peridot didn't realise she was petting the bridge of Lapis’ fingers through the gloves until she heard a noise above her. Afraid she might have somehow transgressed, Peridot pulled her hands back, but before she could fully do so Lapis swayed forward and caught her by the wrists. Looking up, startled, Peridot froze. In all their past dalliances it had always taken Lapis a long time to get worked up. Now however Lapis was breathing unevenly, gaze intense and unblinking, pupils blown.

Hands dragging up Peridot's forearms until they reached the rolled back sleeves there, Lapis began to undress her. She ghosted her fingertips over Peridot's skin, tracing the undersides of breasts and the slope of a navel. More than once the desire reared up to kiss her, lean into Lapis’ bare skin, but always Lapis would elude her, only touching her with her covered hands, with the rough-textured lace clinging at her wrists. It was a production of longing, this exercise of restraint and separation.

In a haze Peridot allowed herself to be manoeuvred onto the bed until she sat facing Lapis with her back between Jasper's legs. Lapis knelt on the mattress before her and ran her palms down Peridot's thighs, pushing her knees apart. Tapping the prosthetic, she breathed, “Can this go?”

Peridot had only ever removed it in Lapis’ presence twice before and never in front of Jasper. Still she nodded, and Lapis began the process of unhooking the metal. As the dead weight was lifted and placed on the floor, Peridot tensed when Jasper's hand ran down her back. There was an undercurrent of hard iron sweat beneath the softer scent of Lapis’ perfume that pervaded the area. A rasping laugh in her ear and Jasper murmured, “Relax. I'm not the one who bites.”

Peridot twitched, trying and failing to lessen the tension in her muscles when Jasper's hand travelled around her front. Jasper's skin was rough with callouses against her chest, years and years of them layered up like a seal of calcium over lead. In spite of that she was surprisingly tame, circling Peridot's breast with one hand while the other kneaded along her inner thigh. It must have been the beating she received earlier, Peridot reasoned through grit teeth, eyes squeezing shut. She couldn't think of any other reason why Jasper would be so docile.

“Look at me.”

Peridot blinked up at the sound of Lapis’ voice. With dark eyes Lapis watched as Jasper spread Peridot open and sketched patterns against her clit with a fingertip. Peridot's hips lifted and she swallowed down a high desperate note at the back of her throat. Through the haze she kept her eyes on Lapis, who bit down hard on her lower hip and touched herself. Gloved hands brushed across Lapis’ skin, and her high cheeks were flushed, her expression sharp as jagged glass.

Peridot's clutched at the sheets beneath her as Jasper kept up this torturously slow pace. Whenever she closed her eyes to gasp however, Lapis would tap at her ankle to bring Peridot's attention back to her. Peridot nearly jumped an inch into the air when she felt Jasper's lips at her neck, before she tipped her head to the side to allow better access. It wasn't until Peridot's hips started to jerk in a choppy rhythm that Lapis moved forward.

Straddling Peridot's waist, Lapis reached down to untangle her fingers from the sheets. Finally she allowed Peridot to touch her, guiding Peridot's hands with her own in feather-light caresses that steadily grew more firm. Peridot relished the tactility of skin on skin, soft and radiating heat, trapped between bodies on both sides.

She faltered when Jasper slipped a finger into her, followed by a second. A gasp stuttered in her throat and Peridot could feel a prickle of sweat at her temple. Meanwhile Lapis placed one of Peridot's hands at her waist, the other between her legs, and sank down with a sigh. One of Lapis’ hands cupped her own breast while she used the other to grip Peridot's hair and pull her head back as Lapis leaned over her. They were so close Peridot could feel the heat of each exhalation across her cheek, yet when she tried to kiss her Lapis held her hair fast, keeping her in place.

Jasper curled her fingers, and Peridot’s chest heaved. When her eyelids threatened to slide shut, Lapis pressed their foreheads together, giving Peridot's hair a firm tug. Peridot's heel dug into the mattress as she writhed, while the stump of her leg stopping just below the knee slipped against the sheets for purchase. When she came, Lapis kissed her, stealing her breath away until she groaned into Lapis’ mouth. Peridot pulled away to gasp for air, but Lapis chased after her, pressing close until she ground down on Peridot's fingers and stifled a cry against her lips.

Their movements grew erratic, then eventually slowed. Wetness slicked across Peridot's hand and down her wrist, and she could hear Jasper remove her fingers, wiping them off against Peridot's thigh. Lapis was hunched over, leaning her face into the crook of Peridot's neck and panting. One of her hands gripped Peridot's waist, and when her thumb stroked lazily over the curve there Peridot shivered.

They did not remain that way for very long. As soon as Lapis recovered, she nudged Peridot's hand away and shuffled to the end of the bed. Unsteady at first, she rose to her feet and crossed back over to the wash basin, stripping the gloves off as she went. When Peridot realised that she was still leaning back against Jasper, she jolted upright so abruptly the top of her head connected with Jasper's jaw.

Hissing, the both of them recoiled from one another. “Sorry.” Peridot rubbed at her head with a wince while Jasper worked her jaw from side to side. “And - uh - thanks. For earlier.”

Incredulous, Jasper stared at her, then burst into rough laughter. When she slapped Peridot on the back then pushed her away to swing her legs over the side of the bed, Peridot nearly pitched face-first onto the floor. Aiming a glare over her shoulder at where Jasper was collecting her clothes off the carpet, Peridot grumbled, “I liked you better when you were gagged.”

Jasper shot her a wide and wicked grin, passing over Peridot's belt and bowtie. “You and me both.”

Peridot snatched her things and turned away. Leaning down, she grabbed her prosthetic from where it slumped against the bedpost. As she fit it into place she cast a furtive glance across the room.

Lapis had already shrouded herself in the silk robe once more and was calmly pinning her freshly laundered gloves on a line over the wash station to dry. The space between them may only have been a few paces, but from here it felt like the vast breadth between stars. Peridot tried pretending she hadn't been staring when Lapis turned around and saw her.

She was belting up her trousers when Lapis walked over. Fingers gently tipped Peridot's chin up, and Lapis studied her thoroughly before bending over to brush a kiss across her forehead. “Same time in a fortnight?”

The metallic buckle was a cold weight in Peridot's hand. She clamped the belt tightly into place and breathed, “Yeah.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> special thanks to my friend Ivory for answering all my vanilla questions  
> and another thanks to Jordan for yelling with me about this AU


End file.
